Barely Over the Last Time
by shade-of-lily
Summary: Takes place during Frame Up. Has the scene everybody wanted to see: the fight with Chip and Abby. Except it doesn't end quite the same...Read it to the end before you decide to stop. McAbby. Better than it sounds. Promise.
1. Chapter 1

So...I think somewhere along the line, there's some unwritten rule that oneshots should contain more emotion than action. Oops. Oh well. I felt like writing a bit of action during History yesterday, so here it is. Takes place during Frame - Up...which was, by the way, an awesome episode. This is kinda like an alternate ending...with more details that we didn't get to see. This is my first NCIS fic, so...be kind! Yeah, I know I screwed with some of the quotes. Work with me here, people! McAbby.

* * *

Something was wrong. McGee could feel it in his bones. Something was going wrong, and he didn't know what. Everything should have been perfect. Tony's name had been cleared, and Gibbs' whole team was gathered around the man's desk, celebrating his return with a large, extra - cheese pizza. Abby was in her lab, sleeping of the 20 or so Caff - Pows she had consumed while working on Tony's case. It should have been a carefree time...but something still nagged him. He shrugged it off. Gibbs' gut was the one NCIS relied on, and Jethro looked as much at ease as he ever was. McGee turned his thoughts back to the party (Tony was heatedly denying his involvement with the female warden on duty at the detainment area), and resolved to buy Abbs a week's worth of Caff - Pow once she woke up.

* * *

Meanwhile, Abby herself was under enough stress to be fully appreciating the excessive caffeine coursing through her veins.

Having a knife at your throat tended to have that effect.

"You're the one," she said. _Duh. Way to go, Abbs_. Her voice was hoarse with lack of sleep.

"Yes," came Chip's voice, distorted with anger. _Psychopath_. "It was me. I framed DiNozzo. The perfect way to get rid of the man who ruined my life. But then _you _had to interfere."

"You took this job _just _to get Petry?" Abby asked in disbelief.

"Yep. It's amazing what you'll do just to get revenge. Not that you'll ever find out; you ruined my plan, you know, so now I'm going to kill you."

_Oh - kay, _Abby thought. _100 percent bonkers. _

She was quickly distracted, though, by the knife that was slicing into her shoulder

_Um...ow? _

She cried out, turning away, and lashed out with her foot, feeling her combat boot connect satisfyingly with Chip's jaw. _Bastard_.

She righted herself quickly and stumbled backwards as Chip came forward, nursing his jaw but wielding the knife all the same.

Abby didn't bother trying to yell for help; her lab was completely soundproof.

For the first time, she cursed her attraction to Metallica.

_Officially cutting back on the metal_, she thought.

Her arm was throbbing from the deep gash, but she ignored it as Chip circled her.

Backing up, she nearly tripped over the lab table, which had fallen over sometime during the fight.

She was pinned to the glass wall of her lab, now, with nowhere to turn.

Abby pounded on the wall desperately, but the area beyond it was empty and the glass held solid.

The knife came down again, and she twisted aside as it impacted the glass, leaving a spiderweb of cracks on the smooth surface.

She kicked it as hard as she could with the back of her heel, still facing Chip and his sadistic smile, and heard it shatter.

None of that mattered though, because the knife had finally, finally, lodged itself in between her ribs...she screamed as she felt the bones move. Even if it had managed to miss the heart, the location didn't matter, she would die from blood loss anyway, she knew, and Chip would make his escape...she staggered away from the jagged hole in the glass, pushing a hand to her wound, and watched as Chip grinned.

_No. _

She shoved him with all her force, and he fell through the wall, landing underneath her.

She could feel shards of glass cutting their way through her body, and the knife, which had been pushed further into her body, up to the hilt now, was screaming in pain, or maybe that was her, but none of that mattered, no, all she could see was Chip's surprised expression and the slivers of glass protruding from his chest...she rolled off him, not feeling the glass splinters stuck in her own skin, and stumbled over to her chair...she had the feeling that if she got there everything would be fine...and why the hell was the room blurring?

It slid in and out of focus, like a badly taken film.

The room flickered once, twice, as she sank into the chair, and winked into darkness.

* * *

_Catch me as I fall   
Say you're here and it's all over now  
Speaking to the atmosphere  
No one's here and I fall into myself  
This truth drives me into madness  
**I know I can stop the pain if I will it all away**_

_Don't turn away  
Don't give in to the pain   
Don't try to hide  
Though they're screaming your name  
Don't close your eyes  
God knows what lies behind them  
Don't turn out the light  
Never sleep never die_

_Fallen angels at my feet  
Whispered voices at my ear  
Death before my eyes  
Lying next to me I fear  
She beckons me - shall I give in?  
Upon my end shall I begin?  
Forsaking all I've fallen for_

**_I rise to meet the end.

* * *

_**

"So...what the hell did you _do _to that woman who put you on the National Herpes Alert website? Did she find you with some trowel?"

"Uh...Ziva? Do you mean hoe?"

"Same difference."

"Ah, Zee-vah Da-veed, what _will _we do with you?" Tony smirked.

It was good to be back.

McGee watched the two agents with a small smile, willing away the worry inside his mind.

It all came back full force, though, when Gibbs, who had been looking over the case file, went ashen and vaulted over Tony's desk, heading towards the forensics lab.

McGee felt his heart plummet to the floor.

_Dammit, Abbs, please – _he glanced at the folder, opened to a picture of – _Chip_.

He was already off and sprinting towards the lab, hurtling up the stairs, hearing the splintering of glass and a muffled scream, unmistakably Abby's, and fearing the worst.

"Dammit." It was Gibbs, who had reached the lab first.

He was staring at Chip's body, skewered by a hundred shards of glass.

McGee pushed past him.

"Abbs?" he called urgently into the lab.

For some reason, the power was out, transforming the wrecked room into a vast shadowy expanse of jagged darkness and shining instruments broken beyond repair.

He saw her sitting in her favorite chair, the swivel one, the one she used to twirl in, whipping around the lab and occasionally slapping him from. She turned to face him.

"_Now _can I work alone?" she asked hoarsely, eyes glazed and feverish with pain.

McGee noticed absently that she was deathly pale.

"Thank God, you're alive...I thought --" McGee began. He stopped, falling silent in horror, as Abby fell over, out of the chair, and slumped onto the floor in a movement that could have been described as graceful, if it hadn't been so macabre. It was only then that he noticed the knife sticking out of her chest. He ran forward, cradling her limp form against his body, sobbing. _"Abby!"_

Tony backed away slowly from the lab and Abby's unmoving form, disbelieving. Abby wasn't...she couldn't be...she had been there from the start, flirting shamelessly with him just for the fun of it, always just around the corner and up a flight of stairs, coming through with the information just when they needed it, blasting music in her lab, joking with Ducky and Gibbs...she couldn't be...no. He dimly heard Ziva and the Director leave the room, giving the remaining team members time to grieve while they took care of the paperwork.

* * *

**"A guy ran a motorcycle through your living room?"**

**"Yeah. No. It was his living room, my Harley. Billy Bob had, uhm, intimacy issues."**

* * *

**"You know what this movie reminds me of?" he asked.**

**"The wizard of Oz?" asked Kate.**

**"I'll get you, my pretty!" Abby cackled.**

**"No, I meant the ones you watch in high school; 30 minutes of cops pulling dead teenagers out of car wrecks."**

**"Oh my God!" Abby exclaimed. "I _love _those! Blood on the highway. Drink, Drive, Die. I keep hoping they're going to release them on DVD."**

* * *

_You look like one of them, Abbs, you look like the kids in the movies...I never thanked you for the black roses...

* * *

_

Gibbs stared at the scene before him, uncomprehending. Abby...he had failed again. First with Kate...now Abby, innocent Abby, who loved her tattoos, Caff - Pows, New Orleans funeral jazz, heavy metal, Abby, who talked unintelligable Tech-Speak with the McGee and loved him, even though she hadn't realized it...Abby, who said what she wanted, lightened their days with her facetious routines and stood on her head when working on difficult problems, whose belief in science had led her to become one of the greatest forensics experts in North America, whose adorable habit of banging her knuckles together when she was anxious had made him smile, who never ever ever cried...he had failed. He could have protected her, could have saved her, and Kate...they were his girls, his team, and now...they were dead.

* * *

**"Thank you sir!"**

**"Don't call me sir."**

**"Thank you ma'am!"**

* * *

**She was pushing McGee out of her lab, on the swivel chair that was now soaked in her own blood.**

**"How many times have I told you he's not a toy, Abbs?"**

**"But Gibbs, he's so _pretty_!"**

* * *

**"Ready to have your world rocked again, Gibbs?"**

**"I'm barely over the last time."**

* * *

_No. No no no no no no no no. This was Abby, his Abby, she couldn't be dead, she couldn't_...McGee thought in anguish as he held her against his body_. Abby Abby Abby, what have you done, wake up, please, wake up...I hate seeing you like this, open your eyes, stop it, Abbs, it's not funny anymore, just please, stop it, stop, wake up, it's fine, I'm here, everything's fine, please wake up, please..._her voice sounded in the back of his mind. _She's gone, McGee, she's gone, she's gone, she's gone, _it echoed. "No..." sobbed McGee, letting his head drop so he was forehead to forehead with her still-warm body. _Abby_...

* * *

**"See anything you like, McGee?"asked Abby, pulling a tight black shirt down over the expansive tattoo covering her back.**

**"No! Uh, I mean...yes?"he stuttered.**

**"Better."**

* * *

**"Aren't you listening to me, McGee? I'm pregnant...it's twins. I haven't told the father yet. It's Gibbs. Something about his silver hair makes me all tingly inside."**

**"Eww...OK, I'm gonna go throw up now," Tony said.**

**"Don't worry," Abby said, seeing his startled reaction as he looked up from the screen. "I'm kidding. Except for the part about Gibbs' hair."**

* * *

**_Hold on to me love   
You know I can't stay long  
All I wanted to say was I love you and I'm not afraid  
Can you hear me?  
Can you feel me in your arms?_**

_Holding my last breath  
Safe inside myself   
Are all my thoughts of you  
Sweet raptured light it ends here tonight_

_I'll miss you in the winter  
A world of fragile things  
Look for me in the white forest  
Hiding in a hollow tree  
I know you can hear me  
**I can taste it in your tears**_

_Closing your eyes to disappear  
You pray your dreams will leave you here  
But still you wake and know the truth  
No one's there_

_Say goodnight  
Don't be afraid_

_Calling me_

_Calling me as you fade to black

* * *

_

**"McGee, sometimes I think I love you."**

* * *

Hands were prying her body from his arms, and he was forced to let go as a kind voice, one he dimly recognized as Ziva's, spoke to him from far away. He couldn't make out the words, but it didn't matter...Abby's body rolled from his grasp limply, and as her side hit the floor, she gave a great shuddering gasp and coughed, blood puddling on the floor around her face.

"Abby?" McGee asked. It had to be a trick, to make him die all over again when he found out it was just a hoax, that she hadn't really just taken a breath..."Oh, God, please, Abby...Boss! I think she might be- " But Gibbs was already at his side, rolling Abby over while McGee straightened. "Ziva, get Ducky. Now!" he barked, feeling a bit like Gibbs. He saw the Israeli's worried face disappear, and soon the pounding of feet on the metal floor of the lab could be heard.

"Oh, Abigail, child..." it was Ducky, and McGee felt a surge of relief - the elderly man might have been used to working on dead bodies, but Abby was nearly dead now anyway, and the doctor was the best chance they had.

"We can't move her, the damage to her chest is too severe; get me a number two scalpel from the outer pocket of my bag, Jethro...now a number four and a half, as well as that gauze...hold her steady now..." With a sickening sound, he withdrew the knife from the girl's chest, dropping it into Gibbs' hands. The doctor immediately pushed a wad of gauze onto Abby's ribs, ripping off the bottom portion of her blood - soaked shirt before doing so. _Thanks for keeping me covered, Ducky, _he heard Kate's voice, in the back of his mind. Shaking it off, he focused on his young patient. _Too much blood_, he thought. There was no way to get her a transplant in the time that she needed it, so they would have to hope that she was able to produce enough blood naturally. "McGee," he snapped. "Tweezers. Pull out the biggest pieces of glass you can, and bandage the cuts up. She's losing too much blood." Seeing McGee's fearful frozen expression, he put extra urgency into his tone. "Now, man!"

"Right," said McGee, grabbing the proffered gauze and pair of pincers. He began selecting the worst of her cuts to bandage, glad that Chip's body had been between her and the worst of the damage. _All that son of a bitch was good for_, he thought savagely. Abby screamed in pain as he extracted the glass from her pale skin (_ sorry sorry sorry _) but he continued. _I'm not letting you die. Abbs, not now and not ever..._

* * *

An hour later, he stood up to stretch, the area around Abby littered with glass shards. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Come on, Probie," he heard Tony's voice say near his ear. "We have to stay out of Ducky's way." McGee allowed himself to be towed away from the lab and downstairs to Tony's desk, still covered in the remains of the pizza they had been eating triumphantly mere hours earlier. He sat down and buried his head in his hands, unaware that he was smearing blood over his face. He let his head drop to the desk, too numb to feel the impact.

"Come on, Tim, we're gonna get you home, Abbs'll be fine, she always is..." Tony said, knowing that his young friend was in no way capable to drive. McGee looked up, startled by the use of his first name.

"I think I loved her, you know," he said hoarsely, as if this explained everything. "I think I loved her..."

"Love, Probie, not loved. Present tense. She's alive, and she's staying that way. Ducky said she was stable...you wanna stay at my place tonight?" McGee shook his head.

"No thanks, Tony. I need - "

"I know," the agent replied. "Me too. But there is no way in hell you can drive right now, so you're getting a ride."

An hour later, McGee fell asleep on his bed, fully clothed, blood caking his face, and dreamed of Abby.

* * *

OK, I officially had WAY too much fun writing that. If you want it to continue...REVIEW! There is a very small fandom for NCIS, so I need everyone who reads this to review! Thanks. Now click that little button.  



	2. Chapter 2

Woot. Five reviews in less than 2 days. I'm tempted to experiment and not update for a week, but that would be cruel. And I'm bored. So...I'm continuing. Yay for all of us. Onwards!

* * *

She was floating in the dark...it was oddly comforting, really, she thought distractedly. She vaguely remembered waking up from the darkness, seeing Gibbs and McGee, and saying...something. She didn't remember what. It had hurt too much. _Way _too much. Then the whole thing had gone black again, thankfully...although now, she could see a bright light overhead, penetrating the blackness of her closed eyelids. She groaned, rolling over and hitting her side. The knife was pushed an inch deeper. _Ow. _She gasped in pain, coughing, and tried to move. Didn't work. Someone was crying...she couldn't tell who, as she had yet to open her eyelids. They seemed too heavy to even contemplate blinking with, so she left them as they were. What else could she think of moving? Her legs. They felt like lead. Something smaller, then. She tapped her finger, feeling it leave the surface she was lying on, and touch back down again. _Good_. Motion established, she turned her attention to what she could hear outside her small dark fog.

The crying was continuing. _I'm fine, look, I'm fine, can't you see me? I'm fine, _she tried to say.

But nothing came out of her mouth except a rasping breath, as well as something warm and slightly metallic.

Blood.

There was a clenching feeling in her chest, and then a feeling so painful it was indescribable...the knife had been wrenched free of her body. Then the pain began to intensify. There were voices everywhere, floating in the air above where she lay, but she couldn't make out the words. Someone was stabbing her body.

_Not again_.

Immediately after each knife thrust, though, came the cool feel of antiseptic and gauze, so that was alright. She drifted in and out of the darkness, sometimes feeling someone's warm hands on her, soothing her bleeding skin, and sometimes feeling more alone than she had previously thought possible. Finally, the voices faded, and the calming hands left. _McGee_, she thought, struggling to come up with names. He had taken the glass out of her skin, had cried over her, had caressed her face. And that other voice, the one that had called her Abigail...that would have been Ducky. Gibbs, she had felt more than heard, his commanding presence filling the very air. And she was sure that the soft, disbelieving 'no' she had heard had been DiNozzo. _Good old Tony. Not much of a welcome - back party. Sorry I ruined it. _

She felt herself being lifted from the floor, and put onto a stretcher. The person raising her body up jostled her arm, and she screamed. Apparently that fall had done more damage than she thought. _Oops. Sorry, Ducky_. Ziva and the Director, she heard someone mutter as she was loaded into the ambulance, were taking care of the paperwork, and Tony and McGee had left. _Good. Wouldn't want them to lose any sleep for me. I'm just the forensic analyst. _Gibbs would, undoubtably, be staying overnight, imagining killing Chip himself and getting himself depressed. Her thoughts in order, Abby let herself sleep.

* * *

The next morning, McGee awoke with a sore neck and a face full of pillow.

Evidently he had attempted to suffocate himself in his sleep.

Rolling over, he allowed himself to simply fall off the bed, in an effort to wake up more. Looking at the clock, he discovered that it was only three in the morning. The agent stumbled into his bathroom and took a boiling hot shower, scrubbing his blood - smeared face and arms with the soap, and throwing out his stained clothes from the previous day. When he emerged outside, he realized that his car was still at NCIS. Ah well. He couldn't really bring himself to care.

Deciding to just walk to the hospital, he headed off down Second Street. It was still only four, and the hospital probably wouldn't be open to visitors, but he had his badge, if all else failed. Along the way, he realized that he would pass conveniently close to Abby's house; making a split decision, he decided to grab her a couple of sets of clothes and some of her other possessions...he tried to picture the girl in a clean, gleaming, sterile white room and shuddered.

Walking around the house, he spied a partially open window. Grabbing a branch of a nearby tree, he stuck it through the gap and fished around for the catch. Hearing it click, he slid the window up the rest of the way and slid inside the house. A quick survey of her room rendered up a few pairs of pants, a skirt, and three tops. McGee gingerly reached into her lingerie drawer and grabbed a handful of fabric, pulling it out and shoving it into the Hot Topic bag he had found on her bed. He was, ridiculously, blushing, although there was no one to see. _Calm down, Timmy._

He looked around for something else to bring, and settled for shampoo and soap, a hairbrush, her MP3 player, a deck of cards, and a scary - looking doll in the corner of the room. Slipping out the window, he latched it firmly behind him. Abby, he knew, was usually a beast about security, so she must have been incredibly distracted to leave something so obviously open. That made sense; she had been anxious about Tony's case, stressing and obsessing over her forensics for a week.

Continuing on towards the hospital, he lost himself in his thoughts. He had come so close to losing her...in a way, he _had _lost her, for a moment. And he never wanted to again. _Oh, Abby...I don't know what I'd do without you...if I walked in one morning and didn't see your smile, hear your voice...I dunno what I'd do.

* * *

_Abby stirred in her sleep, rolling over and thoroughly entangling herself in the sheets. She tossed around, hands flailing and breathing labored.

_Searching NCIS, looking for her coworkers; she was scared. _

_"Kate? McGee? Gibbs? Tony?" she called desperately. _

_"Over here!" came Kate's clear voice, hailing from the bullpen. _Thank god...she had found them_...as she ran towards her friends' desks, she was relieved to see them sitting there, looking perfectly normal. Then Kate turned around. There was a small bullet hole in her forehead. _

_"What's the matter, Abby?" Blood began to pour from the hole; Abby stumbled backwards in horror. _

_"Can't you help us, Abby?" asked Tony. His face was pale and sweaty, his green eyes glazed over in sickness. _

_"You're the only one who can," said Gibbs, standing behind her with his wrists slit, dripping wet. _

_"Help us, Abby, help us!" begged McGee, his body soaked red with blood. "They're going to kill us, Abby! All of us!" _

_"No, no...I can't, I'm sorry, I can't help you!" cried Abby, staggering forward and touching McGee's bloody face. "I'm sorry!" _

_"You've condemned us all, Abby," Gibbs said, fading away and leaving only a puddle of water where he had once stood. _

_"Ashes, ashes, Abby," whispered Tony, sinking to the floor and dissipating into dust, which blew in a nonexistent wind, forming the grisly image of a flower before fluttering away. _

_"It's all you, Abby..." Kate murmured, a strange reddish light playing around her form and turning her into a small girl, skipping in a field and singing softly. As the sound dwindled, so did the image, leaving her alone with McGee. _

_"Goodbye, Abby," he said sadly. "Why didn't you help us?" He turned and walked away, leaving a trail of blood behind, that was pooling around Abby herself now...except it wasn't McGee's blood. _

_"No!" she screamed. Then she looked down. The knife was there, sticking out of her chest, bleeding her dry. The blood was hers.

* * *

_"NO!"

She sat bolt upright in bed, her head connecting with something solid. She was breathing heavily, disoriented and confused.

"Ow," said a muffled voice, conversationally.

"McGee? What are you doing here?" she asked, still fearful.

"Yeah, id's me, Abby. I dink you broke by nose. And in case you habn't nobiced, you're in de hosbital."

"Oh my god, McGee, I'm so sorry!"

"It's good. How do you feel, Abbs?" he asked, fingering his nose tenderly. _Ow. _

"OK, I guess...doesn't hurt too much. If you wouldn't mind telling me...what the _hell _happened?"

"You first."

"Fine. Er...I was in my lab, figured out that Petry had an accomplice, figured out it was Chip, Chip came after me with a knife, cut my shoulder, I kicked him, he stabbed me, I shoved him through the wall, blacked out. You?" she said, all in one breath.

"Wow. Impressive," McGee commented. "Gibbs saw the case file with a picture of Chip on it... figured it out, ran to your lab, I followed. You were just sitting in the swivel chair..." he swallowed. "The knife was stuck in your chest... you asked if you could work alone, then blacked out... god, Abby, we all thought you were gone..." he suddenly grabbed her wrists, holding them so tightly that she was afraid for a moment. "Don't ever do that again, Abbs, I can't do it, I can't...I thought I was the one who had died," he said hoarsely, and Abby was struck by the flashes of force that had appeared in the usually meek McGee. She reached up, gently removing his hands from her wrists, and softly caressed his face.

"I am never leaving you, McGee," she said quietly, looking into his worried brown eyes. He gazed back into her green ones, and before she knew what was happening, he was kissing her. It was soft, sweet, and gentle, with a hint of danger...like McGee himself. Abby made no move to pull away, and, in fact, regretted it when McGee did. He looked ashamed of himself.

"I'm sorry, Abby, I shouldn't ha-mmph!" She decided to shut him up. When they broke apart again, this time slightly breathless, she said, "Timothy McGee, you are, quite possibly, the best thing that has happened to me in a very long time. And I'm not letting you go. Savvy?"

"You do know that this is a complete violation of Rule #12, right?" McGee inquired, grinning nonetheless.

"Rules, Timmy, were made to be broken. Even Gibbs'." Abby returned. "What's in the bag?"

"Oh," McGee stuttered. "I, um, hope you don't mind...I kinda broke into your house and got you some clothes, shampoo, soap, your MP3 player, and...um...this?' he said, pulling the doll out of the bag.

"Oh my god! You found Morticia!"

"Um...yeah...Morticia?"

"I thought I'd lost her years ago!"

"This is a...good thing, then?"

"Right, Timmy!" Abby exclaimed, bouncing on the bed.

"Oh-kay..."

"Sorry," Abby said, still smiling.

"Abby. I know you. It's nothing to apologize for. When do you get out?"

"Er...I think the doctor said I could leave in three days...he said it was practically a miracle...the knife slid directly between my lungs and ribs, so the damage was minimized. I just need to be careful of my ribs, and keep the bandage on...apparently, three of them are broken. Other than that, I broke my arm and have numerous lacerations, severe in nature. Ducky's words, not mine. I feel fine, though..."

"Right," McGee said, disbelieving.

"How did you get in, anyway? It's only five, and visiting hours don't start until...eleven."

"Fire escape. Plus this." McGee said, flashing his badge.

"Ooh. Abusing your position, Timmy?"

"For a good cause," he said, blushing a bit.

"Well...thanks, McGee," Abby said, reddening a little, too.

He smiled.

And when the nurse came in three hours later, she found a federal agent asleep on top of the bed, next to her injured patient and a creepy doll.

* * *

"Uh...sir? You're going to have to leave now. I'm not sure how you got in, but if you don't leave now, I'll have to call the police."

"Fire escape. You should put a better alarm system on that..._way _too easy to crack," McGee mumbled, waking slowly from one of the best sleeps he'd ever had. "And I _am _the police," he said, flashing his badge. "NCIS. Don't ask, I'm really sick of making the speech. Bye, Abbs," he said, kissing the still - sleeping girl on the temple. "Gibbs'll have my skin if I don't go in today... he probably wants me to take over your lab until you get back, but I'll come by tonight, okay?" Abby mumbled something that sounded like 'mmm'k' before rolling over again. "Love you, Abbs," he whispered, nodding at the nurse as he left the room. Abby sat up in bed abruptly. "Did he just say...?" she asked the nurse, who had watched the proceedings in confusion.

"Er, yes, I think so, miss..." the woman answered, bewildered.

"YES!" Abby flopped back on the pillows, and grinned. "Love you too, McGee," she whispered.

* * *

"Sorry I'm late, Boss!" McGee called, entering the bullpen.

"How's Abby?" Tony asked in an undertone as he settled into his desk.

"She's fine. I, uhm, broke into her house, got her some clothes and stuff...had to climb into the hospital by the fire escape and hot-wire the alarms."

"Nice one, Probie," Tony said appreciatively.

"MIT tech training comes in handy sometimes. Gibbs?" McGee inquired.

"Been here all night. Has approximately 73 creases in his suit, and has consumed...14 cups of coffee at last count. 15," Tony amended, watching Gibbs pour himself another cup.

"Wow. That bad, eh?"

"Yep," said Ziva, walking over to his desk. "We have a situation."

"Besides the fact that we have no forensic scientist for the next three days?" McGee asked.

"No, you're filling in for Abby." Gibbs called from the other side of the room. "The situation, McGee, is that we have a rat somewhere."

"Huh?" McGee asked, confused. _Rodents? _"What's happened?"

"Abby was stabbed. By Chip."

"Really, Tony? I had no idea." McGee was a little stressed; he still hadn't gotten over Abby's 'death'.

"NCIS does incredibly invasive background checks on anyone they hire. Someone must have let Chip into this department for a reason...and this reason, guaranteed, has something to do with Abby," said Gibbs, coming over to stand by the team. McGee paled. "Our best guess is that they wanted Abby taken out. She's one of the best forensic analysts on the continent...if they were hiding a crime, there's a good chance she would have been assigned the case. And she would have solved it."

"So...our mole helps Chip get in and work on his own plan, knowing that Abby would crack it open, and Chip would kill her. Getting someone to do the dirty work. But...Chip failed," McGee realized.

"Exactly." Ziva said. "So, whoever it is will try again."

* * *

Well, this one was un poco shorter...I found a good stopping point, and... stopped. Yep. So...REVIEW! I want 10 reviews before I post again. I know, meanie, right? Oh well. Hope y'all loved it!

There is no choice: thanks for reviewing and putting me on your alert...I wrote more, so you'll have to read more!

Graysen–glad you liked it, and thanks for putting me on your alert list!

Jtbwriter–thanks for reviewing! I'm more of a Harry Potter writer...so yeah, comparatively, NCIS, although the show kicks ass, has a much smaller bunch of readers. Pity. And yeah, I loved Frame - Up...it had a lot of great plot twists. Plus, it had loads of Abby. Gotta love it.

Little Eirtae–wow...I made you cry? Yay! My friend cried too when she read it, and she doesn't even watch NCIS. Though, maybe that's a little pathetic. I got depressed writing the reaction scenes...lol.

655321 - Continuing! Yeah, it's from a real episode...I don't remember which, but I'm too lazy to look it up. Psh.

FINAL NOTE: I'm pretty sure I stole parts of that dream. Sorry, whoever owns those bits of it. And don't worry, I didn't just forget about McGee wittnessing it (the dream.)  



	3. Chapter 3

I'M SORRY! Psh. 10 reviews happened a lot sooner that I thought it would. Sorry for the late-ness; Real Life is catching up. But I'm in Vegas now, and I'm taking time out from staring at the pretty lights to write and post this, so...love me? PLUS: I added a mini chapter to make up for the wait! Huggles.

* * *

Chapter 3a: Bodies and Bullets

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Nada.

* * *

PREV IOUSLY:

"Exactly." Ziva said. "So, whoever it is will try again."

* * *

McGee was halfway to the door already.

"What the hell are we doing here, then?" he asked, disbelieving. "She's in a goddamn hospital...I got in through the fire escape, for the love of god! Any halfway decent tech grad could disable the alarms and-"

"Probie. Chill," interjected Tony.

"We're acting under the assumption that whoever our mole is, they haven't figured out what actually happened yesterday. Ziva has suddenly become incredibly inept at paperwork, and it'll take them a while to decipher her answers, not to mention her handwriting," explained Gibbs. "The best thing for Abby is to lie low for a bit. Remember, our man is high up in the department. We take him down, he loses everything. He'll be cautious. Take his time before going after her again. That'll give us time to prepare." McGee sat down heavily behind his desk again.

"God. What a mess," he said. Gibbs silently agreed. _This is going to be a political nightmare_, he thought, grimacing.

((Three Days Later))

"Miss me?" Abby called, her carefree tone of voice completely at odds with the exhausted expression on her features. She waltzed into the bullpen in her typical clothes, a tight black miniskirt and black wifebeater, with elbow-length gloves cut off at the fingertips. The white lab coat she wore over it completed the outfit, but McGee thought that the whole thing somehow lacked the sharp, careless edge her attire usually had. She seemed tired. And afraid. The idea itself was frightening; McGee didn't think he had ever seen Abby this _off _before. Even in the hospital, she had seemed like she would get over it all quickly, just snap back to her old self...in a way, seeing her so normal (well, normal by Abby's standards), but so _changed_...it was almost worse. _Oh, hell. _

"Look, don't throw a party or anything," Abby said weakly as the rest of the team crowded around her. "We all know what happened last time you lot decided to throw a welcome-back celebration." Her dark mascara stood out against her pale, pale, pale skin. McGee smiled anxiously at her, and she blushed before turning her attention back to Gibbs' team. _Odd_.

She spent the day in her lab, going over the files that had been damaged and complaining loudly about the 'incompetent idiots who couldn't even put my three thousand dollar processor back in the effing hard drive properly. _Jesus!_'. Tony, Ziva, Gibbs, and McGee stayed out of her way; as Tony put it, "She's on a sort of healing mission thing. I've seen it before. Let it go, Probie. It'll pass."

"Could've used you with my second wife, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, I've had a bit of experie-" Tony began before Gibbs whacked him on the back of the head. "Sorry, Boss," he winced.

* * *

Abby settled into her chair, her head swimming. _Damn_. She rested her head on her arms, burying her face from the light. _Ow. Migraine. Or something_. She hadn't even contemplated putting music on this morning; her head was throbbing, and there had been bright spots obscuring her vision. She wasn't completely sure why; the doctor had diagnosed it as post-traumatic stress, but Abby wasn't sure. Mainly, her shoulder ached, and bending over stung as well; she was stretching out her newly-formed scars, and it _hurt_. She was startled from her thoughts by McGee's entrance to the lab. She jerked her head up and resumed filing frantically. "I wasn't asleep...I was just resting!"

"Abbs. Chill," McGee said soothingly, unwittingly copying Tony's tone perfectly. "It's okay. You're not even supposed to be back yet...you _should _be resting."

"Right," Abby said, calming down and slumping back into the seat again. "I'm sorry. I'm just so _tired _of it all, you know?" she asked, running a hand over her brow and biting her bottom lip. "I'm sick of it. I mean...all my friends, everyone I know-except you lot, of course- they're all _normal_. Nurses, accountants, lawyers... they ask me how my life is going, you know? And do you know what I have to tell them? I have to say, 'Sorry, really wish I could go out tonight, but chances are I'll be sleeping at my lab all week, making sure my commanding officer doesn't go suicidal over a case, and trying to figure out who killed a Marine sergeant and left his _body _up a _tree _by tracing his ex-girlfriend's cell phone records and doing an assist for an autopsy on his dead roommate's _headless_ body, which just _happens _to be riddled with _bullet holes!_'" she said, her voice growing more and more hysterical as she neared the end.

McGee was speechless. "Um..."

"_Is it any wonder I need caffeine!_" she nearly screamed, before smiling sheepishly at McGee's alarmed expression. "It's fine," she said, waving him off. "Sorry to go off on you like that..."

"No," McGee said showing an unusual amount of resolve. "No, you needed to say it. And, you know, you could always leave, if this is too much..."

"I'd never quit," Abby said. "Forensics is my life, and I don't think I could live with myself if I left. Too much guilt. It just...gets old, you know? Telling people that I'm off getting shot at or up to my elbows in bodies and bullets."

"I know," McGee said. There was something in the back of his mind controlling his actions, he knew, because four days ago he would _not _have been moving forward and hugging her like he was now. "How do you think it feels to be an MIT grad and end up here? All my old friends...engineers, technicians, programmers, the lot of them. Manual work? They think it's a step down on the career scale. I know." He encircled her with his arms, her back against his chest, and Abby could feel his warm breath on her neck.

"Thanks," she whispered.

* * *

Meanwhile, down at the bullpen, things were not progressing smoothly.

"DiNozzo! Tell me you have something for me," Gibbs barked as Tony walked towards his desk.

"Actually, Tony's been off getting food-" Ziva began, glaring as Tony interrupted her.

"Here ya go, Boss. Black, just like you ordered. And I got you a backup mug too," Tony said, handing Gibbs two large mugs of coffee.

"Thank you," Gibbs said fervently. "Abby?" he inquired.

"Two Caff-Pows, hold the Pow, McGee gets a frappechino, and I got Ducky some Earl Grey and a double mocha latte," Tony said.

"What about me?" Ziva asked. Tony handed her a small styrofoam cup.

"Kiddie milkshake. Vanilla," he said, smirking. Ziva pouted.

"I hate you," she said, looking at the container with distaste.

"Oh, very mature. I can tell my choice of beverages was correct," Tony said, grinning.

"You two can flirt when we catch this guy," Gibbs interrupted. "Actually, I lied. You can't flirt anyway. Rule #12. Work on it, DiNozzo."

"Yessir, Boss."

"And get McGee in here! I need him to hack into NCIS' phone network database. I want every single phone call that bastard ever had the slightest chance of receiving."

"So...we're hacking onto our own database. Isn't that just a _little _bit illegal?" Tony questioned.

"Yep," said McGee, coming down the stairs. "Somehow I don't think that legality is gonna count for much on this one, though. If you gave me your access code for the files this would go faster," he said to Gibbs, sitting down at his desk. Tony handed him the frappechino.

"Extra foam, Probie."

"Thanks," McGee said distractedly, fingers hammering away at his keyboard. He lifted one hand and caught the packet Gibbs tossed him without even looking up, opening it and scanning his eyes over the codes. "B14, S27...got it. I'm gonna need Abby's computers for the rest of this," he stated, rising from the desk. He flipped open his cell phone and dialed, holding it with his shoulder and grabbing the sheaves of paper, his drink, and Abby's two Caff-Pows. "Gimme two hours and I will have everything we know on Chip Alcon, down to the name of his _gerbil_," he promised, walking back towards the stairs. "Hey, Edward? It's Tim McGee from NCIS- Yes, I'm being discreet, Gibbs!- Sorry, er, yeah, I need the files from section B14 unlocked, they should be under the S subcat, on the main file..."

"Does he seem...different?" Tony asked, looking bemusedly at McGee's retreating form.

"Yes," Ziva said. "In a good way, I think."

"I don't care if McGee is _eight weeks pregnant_, DiNozzo," Gibbs said bluntly. "I need you two to go talk to all the officials that had a hand in Chip's job apps. _Discreetly_. Make something up. I don't care, just do it!"

And, of course, they did.

* * *

Abby sighed, banging her head against her desk in frustration and exhaustion.

"Just a guess here, but that _probably _isn't helping your headache," said a voice near her ear. "This, however, might," it continued, handing her a Caff-Pow.

"Mc_Gee_," she groaned, before registering the styrofoam cup she now held. "Oh, my god... thank you!" she exclaimed, sucking on the straw enthusiastically. She sighed. "Bliss. Okay, what's up?" Gibbs had already briefed her on the... situation... and she knew that she needed to stay under the radar.

"Chip's phone files. Or lack thereof."

"Gotcha," Abby said, standing up from the chair. She had gotten a new one, McGee noticed absently. It was probably a good thing. The old blue swivel had been drenched in blood. Shaking his head to clear away the thought, he plopped down and spread out his files, beginning to scroll through endless matrices and entrance codes.

"Thanks," said Abby softly, looking at the screen over his shoulder.

"Wasn't me. Tony got them," McGee said distractedly.

"No, not the Caff-Pows. I meant...earlier," she said quietly. McGee looked up, realizing how close her face was to his. He kissed her softly but with an undertone of need; when it ended, he looked into her eyes.

"You've got to be, like, my favorite geek. Ever," Abby said. McGee grinned, not feeling the slightest bit put off.

"How'd you like it if your favorite geek took you out to dinner tonight?" he asked.

"I'd like that very much, as long as I choose the restaurant," she said, smiling as well.

"Sounds wonderful," McGee said, kissing her forehead. "How do you feel?"

"Okay. The headache's gone away pretty much, now," she said, eyes glittering with mischief.

"Told you I had something to help with that, eh?" McGee asked.

* * *

"Lieutenant Connors?"

"Yes?" the bespectacled man looked up from his computer, looking unsurprised to see two of NCIS' finest agents standing over his desk. "You are?" the older man inquired.

"Agents DiNozzo and David. I trust we don't need to give the authentication speech," Ziva said, smiling at the man. He did not return the gesture.

"What do you want? I'm busy, so make it quick."

"Er..." Tony started. "You've been recorded as the man who transferred Chip Alcon to Agent Gibbs' team. We need the files from the transition folder; there's been an accident, and some of his papers are missing... information." Tony injected his words with a tinge of dishonesty.

"Just what sort of accident?" the Lieutenant asked, eyes alight with suspicion.

"Oh, look, honestly," Ziva said, rolling her eyes at Tony. "We can tell him."

"Ziva!" Tony hissed. "Shut up! One sec, please," he said to the man, grabbing Ziva's arm and towing her some distance away. "You idiot- this is confidential information!" He punctuated his speech with expansive arm gestures and an angry expression. Lowering his voice, he said, "He's taking it, I think. _Angry man!_ To the rescue!" he said, poking her in the chest.

"Look, we can trust him. I don't think that there's a mole at all. Gibbs...he's just insane. I don't know why I keep working here. I'm telling him. Maybe he can bring Gibbs to his senses." Whispering, she added, "We're good so far. Look more indignant when I tell him the story. And stop poking me!" She walked back towards Connors, and could see by his eyes that he had heard the whole thing- or thought he had.

Tony trailed behind, pasting a sullen expression on his face.

"Lieutenant. I'm going to tell you what's going on because I feel that you are trustworthy, and also because I enjoy pissing off Agent DiNozzo." _Well, that bit was true._

"Go on," the man said, eyes cold. _Oh, he's good_, thought Tony

"We need Alcon's files because we have suspicions that he is-was- a mole sent in to infiltrate NCIS. Past tense because he's dead now, sir. There was an accident in the forensics lab- our main technician got hurt- and Alcon died. The thing is, while looking over his post mortem records, his information didn't quite check out. Someone fooled you, sir, and got him into the department. We don't know who and we don't know why. That's what we're hoping the files will tell us," said Ziva. She could feel Tony's annoyed gaze on her; _good liar_. This was their guy. Ziva could feel it. The only problem was, they had no proof. It would be impossible to prosecute Connors with no evidence; it would just end with Gibbs being fired and the team disbanded, in all probability.

Connors handed her the files, and she nodded her thanks. Tony glared at her and the man and stalked off, massaging his temples. Ziva caught up, flipping through the papers as she walked. When she was sure they were out of hearing distance, she muttered, "Well played. I think he bought it."

"Yeah. Can I take this face off now? It's starting to hurt," Tony replied.

* * *

"I know you, Jethro."

"You never let me forget it."

"I know you, and I know you're up to something," Jen Shepard said, glaring into Gibbs' eyes. "And I want in," she said. Gibbs raised an eyebrow.

"That's very un-director like," he said, with a hint of humor. Jen looked down, biting her lip. She knew it wasn't very professional, but...

"It has something to do with your forensics analyst- Abigail?"

"Abby," Gibbs said shortly, eyes darkening slightly.

"What happened? What did her assistant do to her?"

"He stabbed her. In the chest. And pulled her through a glass wall," he said levelly, a tightness in his nonetheless calm voice. Jen looked at him in horror. She had seen the girl, lying in the lab in a puddle of her own blood, had seen the man nearby, a sliver of glass protruding from his chest. She just hadn't realized that the team, Gibbs' team, had become so involved in the attack. They all looked so worried, like _they _wouldn't survive if _she _didn't. And Gibbs... she knew how much Kate's death had affected him. Abby's near- death experience and Ducky's abduction so soon after had nearly driven him over the edge. And now...

"Tell me everything," she said, hoping against hope that Gibbs would see fit to answer. He looked at her, eyes older than the rest of him, as usual. And then he told her everything that has happened four days ago.

* * *

"You know, I never really had you pegged as a multi cultural diner, Timmy," Abby said, leaning back in her chair.

"There's a lot you don't know about me," he said, smiling back at her.

"Apparently," she grinned. They were in a small Moroccan- styled restaurant, with brightly patterned decor and spicy food.

"Wanna find out?" he asked. Abby looked at him. His face flushed.

"No! No, no, I didn't mean-not like that- I just meant that we should find out more about each other's lives, not-"

"Sounds good." Abby ignored his stuttering. She leaned towards him, resting her elbows on the table. "You first."

* * *

Chapter 3b: BandAids

* * *

"I was born in Rhode Island. A small town, one where everyone knew each other. My mother worked as a nurse, my dad was built beautiful boats. All wooden. He used to take me out in them, before... before he died. Someone set fire to his workshop; they never found out who did it. All the varnish, the wood... it went up like fireworks." McGee paused, collecting himself. "My mother worked all the time after that, and I started working as an automechanic to pay the bills. Eventually I saved up to move to Boston and got a scholarship to attend MIT. She died my second year there. Cerebral hemorrhaging. I graduated, got recruited here. And that's it. Your turn," McGee said quickly, sounding as if he preferred not to think about it.

_Like a BandAid. Quick and fast, get it over with._

"Um," Abby started. "Born in New Orleans- but you know that. My dad was a bartender. Mum died in childbirth, after having my little sister. Dad went kinda crazy, started drinking his own booze. Said it was my fault, disowned me, and I haven't seen him since. As far as I know, Lizzy's still with him. I tried to get Social Services in to intervene; they put her in a foster home, but she kept running away, back to him. Went to the University of Louisiana; my grandmother paid the tuition. Paid for food and clothes and stuff by working at a funeral home. Graduated, grandmother died, couldn't afford the rent, moved here. You know the rest."

"Oh," McGee said. "Yours is definitely more mentally traumatic than mine. Damn." Abby grinned.

"That's what I like about you, Timmy. You know how to make a girl laugh," she said.

"Oh, please. I'm no Tony," he said, blushing.

"I know," Abby said softly. McGee reddened further.

"I didn't know you had a sister," he said.

"There's a lot you don't know about me," Abby said, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Come on, let's go outside," she said, standing up and walking out to a balcony shrouded with red and brown striped curtains.

"So. Tell me your innermost thoughts," she said as McGee came up alongside her. He would have laughed, but something in her voice told him that she wasn't kidding. He pulled her against his chest, resting his chin on the top of her head and breathing in the scent of her hair. _Mmm_. It smelled vaguely of mangoes; McGee was surprised at the un-Abby-like scent. He had been expecting gunpowder.

"My innermost thoughts?" he asked, thinking. "This whole thing with Chip- it made me realize that life… it ends. That's it. No one has any control over when they go, when they leave. The only way to control anything in life is to live it to the fullest. Take the opportunities when they come, because they never last. Also, your hair smells like mangoes," he added as an afterthought. Abby laughed, and he could feel her body shake against his. She turned her head to look at him.

"And will you be taking those opportunities from now on, Agent McGee?" she asked.

"Yes, I think so," he said, and kissed her.

* * *

A/N: Yay! Another chapter here and gone. Please review, as I am taking time out from eating airline peanuts to write this...I want 15 this time, people! Also, an ANNOUNCEMENT: I AM LAZY. Somewhere in this fandom some wonderfully underappreciated author has written a wonderfully underappreciated story that involved thatwonderfully underappreciated kiddie milkshake scene with the wonderfully underappreciated Tony and Ziva. I STOLE IT. SORRY. It was just way too cool. The Sad Story of Slouchy Sanford, that was the story. Damn my random Senior Moments. ANYWAY. Hopefully the next chapter will be on time. I have seven hours to start writing it...mebbe get 2 pages done (Each chapter is 5. Except for this, which was 7) Hope ya'll enjoyed! Now...REVIEW! 


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: WELL. 16 reviews, and, as promised, chapter 4 is out! There is one thing you must know: I am a spotty writer. Not chicken pox spotty. Spotty as in, I write random parts out when I feel in a certain mood, and try to connect them. For instance, I was really depressed yesterday, so I wrote a two-page-log doc that won't be used until this fic is in the double digits chapter-wise. If it ever gets there. That's why I'm not always on time; I use my fic-writing time to write things that y'all won't see for months because of the storyline. ANYWAY. Chapter 4. Sorry for the lyrics, but they're pretty, plus appropriate, so I included them. Copyright: The Goo Goo Dolls.

* * *

DISCLAIMER: NOT MINE. If it were, NCIS'd be out on DVD already.

* * *

Abby laughed loudly, cheeks flushed, and walked straight into McGee's front door.

"Ow," she giggled.

"You're drunk, darling," McGee informed her, snaking his arm around her waist to unlock the door. Abby stuck her tongue out at him before stumbling into the room. "And you're lucky I'm not Tony," he continued. It was a bit unfair, he knew, but whatever… Abby mumbled something incoherently at him and tripped onto the couch. Even in her inebriated state, she could tell the room was pure McGee. Bookish, with one corner taken up by a fireplace, another by a large computer system that was whirring quietly as matrices scrolled down the screen.

"I love your house," she said, hiccupping.

"Mmhmm," McGee said, locking the door and walking over to her. "Shoes off, love." Abby kicked off her boots obediently, and surprised him by taking her shirt and skirt off as well. _Okay_. McGee pushed her back onto the couch and went into his bedroom, retrieving one of his shirts. "Arms up." He tugged it over her head. Abby kissed him; he kissed back, but when it got too heated, he withdrew. It took a lot of effort. This was going too far, and he knew he would never forgive himself if he took advantage of her this way. Picking Abby up in his arms, he lay her on the bed and pulled the sheets up to her chin. Grabbing and extra pillow and blanket, he walked back into the living room and fell asleep on the couch.

* * *

The first thing Abby thought when she awoke was that a troop of Scottish dancers had found their way into her head, and were feverishly pounding out the Craggy Kilt Dance on the inside of her skull. She rolled over, shoving a pillow over her head to block out the piercing light coming through her eyelids. Wait... pillow? She sat upright, ignoring the flash of light behind her eyes. McGee… she cursed. What had happened last night? The last thing she remembered doing was taking off her shirt… The other side of the bed was smooth and undisturbed, though, so maybe…? A thought struck her. Had they done it on the _floor? Shit_. She walked unsteadily towards the kitchen. An orange canister flew at her head; she grabbed it reflexively, holding it two inches away from her face in an effort to identify it. The words swam in and out of focus. _Aspirin_?

"Is that your normal morning greeting, then?" she asked, spotting McGee across the room, doing something with eggs. "Chucking pharmaceuticals at people?"

"Pretty much, yeah. Figured you could use it," he said, turning. "Morning, Abbs. How'd you sleep?"

"Good," she said, getting a glass from the shelf above the sink. "Sorry about last night. We didn't, er…"

"No," he said, smiling warmly at her. "But it was a fight. Breakfast?"

"Nah," Abby said sarcastically. "Of course! I didn't know you cooked."

"Not much," he said. "I can do the basics, though." Abby downed three Aspirins (she always took one above the recommended dosage) and sat down across from him at the small table.

"Music?" McGee asked. "Don't have much metal, but it's alright for me…"

"Sounds good," Abby said. "Contrary to popular opinion, I _can_ listen to music other than death metal."

"Right," McGee said, getting the remote and turning on the stereo.

* * *

_And you ask me what I want this year  
And I try to make this kind and clear  
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days  
Cuz I don't need boxes wrapped in strings  
And desire and love and empty things  
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days_

_So take these words  
And sing out loud  
Cuz everyone is forgiven now  
Tonight's the night the world begins again_

_And it's someplace simple where we could live  
And something only you can give  
And that's faith and trust and peace while we're alive  
And the one poor child that saved this world  
And there's 10 million more who probably could  
If we all just stopped and said a prayer for them_

_So take these words  
And sing out loud  
Cuz everyone is forgiven now  
Tonight's the night the world begins again_

_I wish everyone was loved tonight  
And somehow stop this endless fight  
Just a chance that maybe we'll find better days_

_Tonight's the night the world begins again

* * *

_

Abby closed her eyes, feeling strangely peaceful despite her headache. _This is where I should be_, she thought. It felt right, eating breakfast with McGee, here in the sun- drenched kitchen, in one of his soft shirts that was slightly too big for her. She was more comfortable here than anywhere else… save in McGee's arms. Abby smiled at him warmly, and he returned it, grinning at her from across the table.

* * *

Two hours later found Gibbs' team assembled in the bullpen, despite the fact that it was a Saturday morning. McGee had thrown slacks on, and Tony was simply wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

"I love working on weekends," he muttered to the younger agent. "It's like dress-down Fridays with overtime wages. Suh-weet."

McGee shook his head, before directing his attention to Gibbs as he took the remote and brought a picture up on the screen.

"Lieutenant Trent Connors," Gibbs said, gesturing at the man's photo. "Director of staffing here. And, according to Ziva and Tony, just about as corrupt as it comes. Unfortunately, we have no evidence of this. So… hit the books, kiddies. I want reports on anyone who's seen him in a relatively suspicious area, criminal records, check his fingerprints against existing cold cases, all of it."

The team saluted as one, and Abby made for the elevator, followed by McGee. "We've got dibs on the crim recs!" she called just before the doors closed.

"Dammit!" Tony said, flopping into his chair. "They always get the fun ones. That leaves us with… urg. People stuff. Credit card companies, all that rot… god, I always feel like I'm running a phone bank when I do this one," he grumbled. Ziva rolled her eyes.

* * *

((Four Hours Later))

* * *

"No, not _bombers_, _Connors_, rhymes with 'honors,' I've told you tw-"

"-Credit card usage-no, what? No, I will _not_ give you my number-"

"-O as in orange, N as in nine-"

"Really? I remember specifically asking for beige. If I'd wanted desert sand, I'd have _said_ desert sand!"

"N as in nitrogen, O as in orangutan-"

"Yes, _thank_ you, _finally_, his serial's 0909552-"

"Love you too, babe-"

"I said BEIGE!"

"Yes, I am Italian, thanks for noticing; you know, a lot of women think Italian men are hot-"

"CheezeWiz? He bought forty dollars worth of _CheezeWiz_!"

"Right, 246-0051, got it… maybe I'll call you tonight. Right now, though, could you do me a huge favor and tell me WHAT THE HELL HE SPENT FORTY DOLLARS ON LAST FRIDAY?"

"CheezeWiz," Ziva called over to Tony.

"Right, thanks," he responded, hanging up the phone and perusing the screen in front of him. "So that's what we're charging him for, then? Excessive cheddar."

Ziva snorted. "Yeah, 'cause you know Gibbs would just _love_ that."

"Gibbs would love what?" Abby asked, striding into the bullpen. "And speaking of boss-man, where is he? Our guy's clean through and through. I've got Timmy hacking into the database's files now, but he says it's gonna take a bit."

"Super. We have absolutely nothing to report then," Ziva said, running a hand through her hair.

"Hold the phone," Tony said, peering at his computer. Ziva reached in her pocket and took out her cell phone, looking at Abby confusedly. The girl tried not to laugh.

"Tell you later," Abby whispered.

"Got something," Tony called, putting a picture up on the projector screen.

"That's Connors," he said unnecessarily, pointing to the man on the right. "And that-"

"That's Chip," Abby said. Tony looked at her quickly. She was staring at the photo, and he realized that she hadn't seen him after the attack. The last time she had seen the man, there had been a piece of glass sticking out his chest. Probably not the best memory.

"Right," Ziva said hurriedly, clearly seeing the same thing. "But there's nothing here that's suspicious, Tony." She was right. The two men stood in the background of a small café, the foreground taken up by a smiling couple. Chip and Connors appeared to be shaking hands.

"Aha! That's where you're wrong, Miss David," Tony said triumphantly, zooming in on the two men's hands. Abby's eyes widened. The green tinge of money shone brightly from between the clasped hands.

"One of them was paying the other, probably for something illegal" Tony explained.

"That's great," Ziva said, clearly irked that she hadn't found the picture, "but it's still nothing definite."

"True," Tony admitted. "But it's a start."

"Zoom in to the right of Connors' shoulder," Abby said suddenly, studying the screen. "There," she said, jabbing a finger at the screen. A man had come into focus, standing slightly away from Connors, as to not affiliate himself with the man. His face was hard and calculating, though that wasn't what had caught the attention of those present. They were much more focused on the gun sticking out of his pocket.

"Yep, I'd say that's suspicious," Abby said happily.

* * *

They showed their findings to Gibbs later that day. Or rather, everyone but Tony showed it to him, and the man in question leaned back in his desk and browsed through a magazine. Gibbs showed no surprise at the picture, and simply barked at them in his Gibbs-ish way.

"I want an ID on this guy," he said. Tony rummaged around lethargically in his desk, emerging triumphant with a folder in his hand. McGee, having also anticipated his boss's orders and having received a phone call from Abby, was ready as well with a packet of his findings on both Connors and the other man.

"Trent de Vries," he said. "Lives in LA. Has no rap sheet; he's squeaky clean." Seeing Gibbs' look of annoyance, McGee continued quickly. "However, upon a… strategic probe… of NCIS' database, we find that he's a suspect for a murder case. The most prominent suspect, in fact. Thing is, no one's keeping track of him. I traced the case back as far as I could; it disappeared in 2001. Just fell off the face of the earth," he finished. Gibbs nodded.

"Sounds like a common corporate cover-up," he said. "Hush up the department with a bit of the green stuff, until everyone 'forgets' that the case ever existed. What was the crime?" he inquired.

"Murder," McGee answered, wincing. "Killed his wife, a Marine." The group fell quiet, thinking. The silence was broken abruptly as the elevator doors slid open and Abby rushed out, face pale.

"I Googled the couple from the picture. Mike and Kathy McCarthy," she said hurriedly, as if it explained everything. "They were found dead in their home, murdered, the house ransacked. All the cameras and photos were gone. The case went into the back files; there was no evidence, none at all, in the house. He must have figured out that they had a picture of him," She took a deep breath. "And… he killed their kid. Their nine-year-old son." The entire group had blenched, except for Gibbs. "But when he took the photos…" Gibbs realized,

"He forgot to check the computer," Abby finished.

* * *

A/N:

MissColdEmber: LoL… he IS cute.

Jacey05: Thanks! I know, I'm always getting annoyed because there are so few McAbbys. Grr.

Toplesslemon: LoL. Your review made my day… thanks so much!

Little Eirtae: Loves back thanks! (and I accept the bribe. Mmm…cookie…)

Graysen: Thanks for reviewing!

Not A Muggle: Well...here's the next one!

655321: KEPT…WRITING…

LosingInTranslation: Thanks SO much for the criticism…it's things like that that make us better writers. I tried to work on the dialogue shifts this time around…

REVIEW!


	5. Chapter 5

Special note to Little Eirtae: I _love _you. Thank you SO much for pointing that out to me...I feel like an idiot. :) I fixed it!

Chapter 5: Getting There

"You're going to LA," Jenny Shepard told Gibbs matter-of-factly.

"Um… no?" he said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are, or you're fired," she said, an edge to her voice.

"You can't do that," he said skeptically.

"Watch me."

A pause.

"Well, when you put it that way…"

* * *

"We're going to LA," he announced later that day. His declaration provoked mixed reactions.

"Sweet! California babes!"

"Oh yes, Tony, because that's _really_ the picture I wanted in my mind."

"But Gibbs! I'll tan! I can't _possibly_ go! My hair will blonde! I'll be _ruined_!" Abby exclaimed sarcastically. Only McGee asked the most important question:

"Um… why?"

Gibbs waited for silence to fall before speaking. "We're going," he said, "for the Connors case." The group fell silent.

"Ah," said Abby. "I see. That's different, then."

"Yes. But, thing is, we're not there for the case. We're there for a government-based conference. _Right_?" The team caught on immediately.

"Right," Tony said giving a slow wink. "A conference…"

"DiNozzo. You look like you're having a seizure."

"Sorry, Boss."

"Coincidentally, there's a forensic conference going on at the same time. So we'll be able to take Abbs with us," Gibbs said, smiling at the forensic scientist. "What? You didn't think we'd leave you here for the random snipers?"

"Yessssss," Abby said, pumping her fist in the air in triumph, and doing a series of back flips in celebration. Unfortunately, one of them took her too far and she crashed into a desk. Righting herself quickly, she looked at the crushed computer in consternation. "Dammit!" she said, grimacing. "Third time this week. McGee!"

"On it, Abby," he said wearily, walking over to the desk and helping her repair it as she examined the computer. Gibbs shook his head, then addressed the two remaining agents who were still paying attention to him, albeit with frequent amused glances at McGee's complete ineptitude with manual labor.

"While we're there," Gibbs continued, "we're gonna be working with the LAPD. They think we've just got a missing person case and a suspect who happens to be in the area… the Director arranged it."

Tony stared.

McGee dropped the machinery he was holding (onto Abby's foot.)

The hard drive Abby was holding emitted a series of high-pitched beeps into the sudden silence and a trickle of smoke emerged. She didn't notice.

"_What_?" asked Gibbs, noting an equally confused Ziva.

"Er, Boss… you know, we kind of _suck_ with other teams…" Tony started uncertainly, after a moment's pause.

"We're just not that wonderful on the… _people_… side of things," McGee said delicately.

"Entire _departments_ have been known to take simultaneous personal days when they found out we were coming," Abby said bluntly.

"Well then, you'll just have to play nicely," Gibbs said sweetly.

"It's not _us_ we're worried about," Tony muttered. He was rewarded with a slap upside the head. "Sorry, Boss."

"We move out on Wednesday. Get packed."

* * *

Abby looked around as the team emerged into the airport. It was big, white, and modern, with a huge row of security checkpoints ranging in front of them. As they approached one of the walkthrough machines, the bored- looking guard turned to face them. Gibbs wordlessly handed him the Arms Authorization paperwork that gave them the right to bring weapons aboard the plane.

"Orright, fine, but youse lot still need to take 'em all out an' run' em through the machine," he said in a monotone. After a brief nod from Gibbs, they all began taking out their weapons. Abby finished first, with only a semi automatic pistol and… numchucks? Gibbs gave her a look. She shrugged. McGee finished a moment later, sticking his a knife in the bin with his two handguns. He looked at Abby's bin and whispered something in her air. The girl hit herself on the forehead.

"What?" Ziva asked, waiting for a box.

"My mace. I _always_ forget the damn mace," Abby replied, unclipping the lethal-looking weapon from her belt.

"Right… me too," hedged Ziva, edging away from her. Tony slid his bin through the machine soon after, and Gibbs followed suit. All that was left was Ziva, who had finally gotten a tray, filled it to the brim, and was now looking at it with concern.

"I may need two," she stated worriedly. "I'm not sure my taser is gonna fit in with the Sauer."

"Here ya go," Tony said, sliding her a second tray helpfully. "I _told_ you you wouldn't need the hand grenade, but did you listen? _Nooo_," he said, rolling his eyes. Seeing the crowd around the security checkpoint looking at the group in fear, he sighed.

"What?" he asked irritably. The crowd whispered more. Tony threw up his hands, turning aback around to the rest of Gibbs' team.

"And yer jewl'ry, watches, belts, shoes, cell phones, computers, and jackets," the guard continued, seeming not to notice the small mountain of weaponry in front of him.

"Jesus, this is gonna take a bit," Abby said, flopping down to unlace and unbuckle her combat boots. Next came her earrings, her belly ring, studded choker and matching arm band, her belt, numerous rings, and all of her bangles. Collecting the pile, she dumped it in a tray with a metallic rattle, throwing her badge on top. The entire group proceeded to walk through the checkpoint, and Tony was chosen to be searched. By a female security worker. He didn't seem to mind.

"You wanna strip- search me?" he asked, leering. The woman giggled. Behind him, Ziva pretended to throw up. Abby nodded in agreement, making an expression of disgust. It was going to be a _long_ trip.

1"I am _not _going to ask why you need _three _suitcases for a week's worth of work, Tony," Ziva said, staring at Tony's pile of luggage being loaded onto the X-Ray machine.

"You'll soon see, Miss David, that it is always best to be prepared for the unexpected," Tony said haughtily.

"Oh, is that what the condoms are for, then?" she asked, peering over the machine operator's shoulder to see the screen. Tony shot her a look before stalking away towards the gate. Ziva smiled, running to catch up to him. "And your carryon!" she continued. "Full! Stuffed with-" she looked at a magazine sticking out of a side pocket. "-Playboy! What if you have to sit with some adorable old lady? What will she think? What would your mother think?" Tony whirled around to face her, eyes angry. "Don't talk about things you don't understand," he snarled. Ziva stood her ground, but just barely. _What the..._ "Besides. I personally happen to love old ladies. They're cute. And my bag isn't stuffed. If I wanted to, I could _so _fit a rhino in my carryon," he said disdainfully. Gibbs, having heard only the last part of the conversation, took one look at them and walked away towards a nearby Starbucks, shaking his head.

* * *

The plane trip went smoothly; Abby and McGee played computer games ("Elf Lord!" whispered Tony), Gibbs pored over the case file, Ziva read a novel, and Tony read… well, Tony read. Their flight was direct, and soon Abby had fallen asleep. Her head lolled onto McGee's shoulder, earning the man a 'Look' from Gibbs.

"Sorry," he mouthed, not looking it at all. Soon they were disembarking, stepping off into the bright Californian sun. Tony looked right at home, but Abby looked so out of place, with her pale skin and black hair, that it was all McGee could do not to laugh. They found their hotel, and, exhausted, said goodnight.

* * *

"Morning," McGee yawned, stumbling into the girls' room sleepily. "Hey, Ziva, I found out what Tony needed three bags for."

"Do I _want_ to know?" the woman asked, brushing her hair out in the far corner of the room. McGee ignored her comment.

"About five million Alfred Hitchcock movies," he said, yawning again. "And guess what? He decided to watch them all last night. I got, what, maybe three hours of sleep, tops?" he said, glaring as Tony entered the room.

"Oh, don't be a baby," the man said, flopping on Abby's unmade bed. "I never sleep more than four, and look how I turned out."

"That's what I mean," McGee muttered.

"Off!" Abby said, shooing Tony away from her bed so she could make it. "I miss my coffin. None of this stupid sheet- folding stuff. Just slam the lid and lock it." None of the group commented on this; they were so used to it, the oddness of the statement didn't even register.

"Finish the bed, Abbs, we're leaving in three minutes," Gibbs said, sticking his head into the room.

"Gotcha, Boss- man," she said, chucking the pillows on haphazardly. The bed looked like a war zone, sheets untucked and pillowcases falling off.

"Our own domestic goddess," Tony snickered, earning himself a punch in the arm as Abby walked out the door.

"Ow!" he said, massaging his shoulder.

"Women," Ziva said, following Abby and Tony, "are naturally defensive when it comes to their homemaking skills."

"Yeah, I got that," he said ruefully.

* * *

The group got into the rental van and, amongst good-natured bickering, got settled in for the drive to the LAPD headquarters. Although none would ever admit it, they were all worried; everyone knew that they were not exactly the most conventional team in law enforcement. Tony, the smooth talker, was the least worried; if it came down to it, they'd have Gibbs, he knew. Ziva had faced enough discrimination in her lifetime to be more than wary of meeting new people. McGee was apprehensive; he was just not a people person. His quiet and reserved attitude set him apart from a lot of the hotheads that worked in the LAPD, and he was the youngest agent on Gibbs' team. Abby was worried about her image, although she would never tell anyone. The people in New York were used to her, and accepted her. In LA, the land of Barbies and bikinis, she stuck out like a sore thumb, and she knew it.

Gibbs was just worried that someone would find out that no one in his team had had a psych evaluation in over two years.

* * *

The group parked the van in the parking lot, earning stares from passing workers at Ziva's obvious Israeli background and Abby's dress. Which wasn't actually that bad, for once; Gibbs suspected she had toned it down a bit for their hosts. It was merely a black pleated miniskirt with a red and black striped blouse and combat boots. Maybe it was the hat that set them off. (A/N: you all know the hat I'm talking about! The red one Abbs wears in Probie? With the pigtails sticking out? ADORABLE!)

They entered the building and dispersed, Ziva, Tony, and McGee going to the three cubicles clearly reserved for them, Gibbs going over to his co- commanding equal, the head of the LAPD team that would be opposite his, a man named Chris Kensington. Abby looked around, feeling a bit useless, and decided to go look at their forensics lab, as she had nothing better to do. Spotting a sign, she followed it across the lobby and into a room on the left. It was nothing like hers- she felt a twinge of longing for the bright neon photos of injuries, and her dark music. A man stood at the end of a long table, goggles obscuring most of his face. He frowned, clearly concentrating on his task.

"Oxidizing lead-based paint?" Abby asked, walking towards him. The man jumped.

"Wha- oh, yeah. Sorry, you frightened me." He had an Irish accent and fiery red hair- Abby liked him immediately.

"Sorry, " she apologized. "Abby. Abby Scutio," she said, extending a hand to the grinning man.

"Charlie MacIntyre," he replied, an easy smile settling comfortably onto his features. "Mack the Knife to my friends, or just Mack." Seeing her surprised and... _alarmed?_... look, he explained further. "I'm the blade expert for the LA region. You'd be amazed at the stats for knifings... 84 percent of all criminal activities in Los Angeles involve blades of some sort. Um... are you okay?" he questioned, seeing Abby pale.

"Not _again_," she muttered. "Er... yes. Be right back." She walked quickly back over to where Gibbs was standing, talking with Kensington, and stood on her tiptoes to whisper into his ear. A concerned look passed over his face, and he turned to murmur something back, before placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He bent over to confer with Kensington, straightening and calling something to Abby, who was heading back towards Mack. She waved a hand nonchalantly.

"Well, you've passed the test, Mackie-boy. Congrats!"

"Huh?" he asked, befuddled.

"You'll get used to her," Tony said, sticking his head in with an armful of coffee mugs and pushing one into his hands as he walked by. _Yes, but will I ever understand the rest of them?

* * *

_

"Do you trust your forensic analyst?" Gibbs asked, looking in concern at Abby.

"Huh?" Kensington replied intelligently. Gibbs knew him to be a good man, if a bit on the law-abiding side; I never could stand that in a man, he thought humorlessly.

"MacIntyre. Do you trust him?" he pressed impatiently.

"Well, yes, but I don't see-" the man began, clearly confused. Gibbs cut him off, signing to Abby on the other side of the room. She waved a hand nonchalantly in recogntition.

Gibbs leaned down until he was on eye level with Kensington. "What I am saying to you never leaves your mouth. Or I will hunt you down and kill you personally, to hell with the law. Not to mention, Abby could easily make it so no one would ever know I did it. Do you understand?" Kensington nodded meekly.

"Good. Abby was attacked recently by her lab assistant. He stabbed her. With a knife. In the chest." Kensington looked at him wide-eyed, mouth opening and closing soundlessly. Gibbs shut it and patted him on the shoulder. "There. That's what happened. Satisfied?" despite his light tone, his eyes had darkened slightly.

"What… what happened to the assistant?" he asked

"She pushed him through her lab wall with the knife still stuck in her chest. It's glass," Gibbs said, smiling fondly. "That's our Abbs."

"_Jesus_," Kensington said, staring at the innocent-looking girl openly.

"Yeah, pretty much. Although, she's actually more like the Anti-Christ on Tuesdays," Gibbs said conversationally. "And you don't even _want_ to know about Ziva." He smiled to himself; maybe this would work out after all. Move fast enough, and everything else seemed to go slowly.

It gave you plenty of time to aim and fire.

* * *

A/N: Sorry if this chap moved a bit fast... I wanted to get them to LA. Ah well. REVIEW!

Gertrude Louise Genevieve: Thank you so much!

jacey05: Thanks.. I've been trying to come up with plot twists for the case.

bloodredcherry: Yes, I know the tetchy thing... but I re-examined the dream sequence, and it's actually not like the other one at all... I guess it was all in my head, so hopefully whoever the goddess (or god) is that wrote that won't hate me. Thanks for reviewing!

LosingInTranslation: Less action in this one, more movement. Hope you liked it!


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